


Mayberry Sucks

by areyoutalking



Category: The Andy Griffith Show
Genre: A little bit of blood, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Barney's a big nerd, Crushes, Fist Fights, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Punk Andy, Teenagers, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-10-12 10:19:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoutalking/pseuds/areyoutalking
Summary: This might be cancer but hey im trying my best give me a break. (i love you guys)





	1. Death Talk 101

**Author's Note:**

> There WILL be more.

"How would you want to die, Barn?" Andy asked, his leather jacket croaking as he reached up to pluck his smoldering cigarette from between his soft lips.

Barney swallowed, nearly missing the question since his brain was far away, filled with images that revolved around Andys lips.

The timid, fifth-teen-year-old Barney Fife quickly looked down at the old, time-worn wooden floor of Andys bedroom and thought about his friends' question.

How would he want to die? How would he want- wait, why was Andy thinking about this?

This of all things?!

He bit his bottom lip and looked up to his friend.

Andy was casually sitting on the window seat, looking almost astonished at the outside scenery, blowing thick puffs of smoke out into the chilly autumn night sky. He was absolutely ravishing soaked in the moonlight, it deflected off his curly raven hair and bathed his tan skin in ivory.

"I dunno Ange, maybe surrounded by my wife and kids, not to mention other family members." Barney cringed at his lie. _I'd rather die next to you, Ange, no matter how brutal it is, I'd rather die next to you._

"Hmph," Andy frowned. Casting his gaze over to Barney, he creased his thick eyebrows, " _That's_  how you wanna die, Barn? Surrounded by a bunch of ken with a tube halfway down your throat, the last thing you see is that blank hospital ceiling? Kinda boring doncha think?"

"Well," Barney wet his lips that he didn't notice were dry and straightened his back, getting ready for whatever Andy would throw back at him, "Why are you even talking about this, Andy? I mean, you're only sixteen! Death isn't gonna be around the corner anytime soon."

"You don't know that," Andy countered, pinching the end of his cigarette and flicking out the window. Barney cringed, know that either Aunt Bea or his dad would find it and scold him for it. Andy pulled his knees up to his chest and continued, "I could die tomorrow! Or right now." He smirked, swinging his long legs over the window ledge. Barney rolled his eyes.

"Please, you don't have the guts." He scoffed, and Andy's smirk became a gentle smile. He pulled himself back into the room and giggled, oblivious to the loud thunder of Barney's heart.

"Naw. I don't wanna die right now. But when I do, I want it to be in blazin' glory! I want my death to be so- so shocking! So vile, so vain, I want my death to be something this tiny speck of a town will talk about to their great-grand younguns!" Andy exclaimed using mostly his hands. His expression was a cheery and determined look, as if he was watching his own death right before his very eyes. 

And it excited him. 

Barney didn't understand why he was always so enthusiastic about death. Sure, he had it a little harder than others ('little' felt like an understatement, Barney knew it must've been hard with an alcoholic father, a dead mother, and an overbearing Aunt. But still, he did have it better than others) but death shouldn't be something to be excited about. Not at sixteen. 

"Well," he sighed, picking at his tennis shoe absentmindedly. Andy turned his attention to him, and Barney nearly forgot what he was gonna say. He loved and hated Andy at the same time.

Loved him because, hey, who the hell didn't in this tiny speck of a town?

Hated him because, hey, who the hell didn't in this tiny speck of a town?

He was charming, and he was handsome, and he was kind. He was bittersweet and twisted, and so busted up from all the hate and attention this town had pressed onto him. 

He was a rare type of human Barney wanted to lock away in a room and keep him there forever. He wanted to shield him from the world for the rest of his life, no matter how short it was. Barney cleared his throat and offered a soft smile.  

"We got more important things to think about. Like what the hell are we gonna do about the project for Mrs. Hitlins class?" He joked, and Andy gave a chuckle. 

"That ol' hag can get her panties out of a wad." 

Barney only laughed in response. 


	2. Corn Liquor

Barney wasn't sure what the hell that sound was, but all he did know was...it woke him up. He'd been dozing off after a not so surprising hour of restless sleep.

He could feel the exhaustion pawing at his brain, reeling him in slowly. It was just like- no, WORSE than a day of fishing without a single nibble. Slow, boring, and downright annoying.  

So you could understand how happy he was when disturbed right when he was finally falling asleep. 

Sitting up in a dazed annoyance, he listened for it again. All that could be heard with the sound of chatty crickets, a 'hoo' from a nearby owl, and the rustle of tree limbs in the crisp Autumn wind. 

Turning to his side, he was just about to lay his head on the pillow when he heard it again. 

_ Plink. _

He sat up fully alert this time and listened more closely this time. 

_ Plink. _

What the actual HELL was that?! Pushing back the covers, Barney swung his legs over the side of the bed, being extra quiet just in case the sound happened again. 

_ Bang!  _

Barney nearly let out a scream as he jumped right out of his skin. It sounded like it came from the window, was it a bird? He hurried towards the glass pane, his brain clouded with curiosity and the ever loving need for sleep. Pushing his curtains aside, the outside world was dark, and he had to press his face up against the glass to see. 

When nothing was to be found, he gripped the window and pulled it open. A pebble came in contact with his forehead. 

"Ouch!" He hissed, rubbing the surely red spot on his head vigorously. 

"Barrrrnnneeyyy." A voice whispered, and Barney could just hear the smile in the voice. Sticking his head out the window, he was met with a stumbling Andy Taylor, the smell of moonshine so strong his eyes watered. Andy gave an intoxicated smile and looked to Barney with half-lidded eyes. "Barney, let me in." He whined, tripping over his boots and landing face first into the grass. 

Barney gave a huff and rolled his eyes.  

"What are you  _ doing, _ Taylor?" He groaned between gritted teeth, leaning forward to look at the squirming form of his friend on the ground. Andy rolled onto his back and gave a giggle. 

"Drinkin' Barn! W-whaddya think I was doin'?"

"Bein' a damn fool, that's what I was thinkin'! What are ya doin' here?" He whispered shrilly, too annoyed to admire the way Andy's eyelids fluttered, and the way his long eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, and the way his curly locks splayed across his cheekbones... okay Barney probably wasn't  _ that _ annoyed. But still...

"Uh," Andy rolled his eyes in an over-exaggerated manner and shakily got up, "I came here to  _crash_. Like I normally do when I'm shitfaced." He stated a little too loudly in a matter of fact tone, hands placed on his narrow hips. 

"Shhhh!" You'll wake everyone up!" Barney warned, but Andy rolled his eyes again and blew a spit-soaked raspberry. 

"You're parents left for Mount Pilot to visit your aunt two days ago!" He countered, and Barney gave groan. 

"There's this thing called neighbors, you inconsiderate asshole!" He snapped, and Andy hiccupped before letting his jaw drop and letting out a gasp. Barney brushed this off and continued, "And if you knew my parents were gone, why didn't you just knock on the door?"

"It slipped my mind."

"Until just now?"

"Uh huh." 

Barney felt like smashing his head against a sidewalk, it was a Wednesday night at-he glanced at the clock- 11 o'clock. 

Why in the hell would Andy come over with a snoot full? Why does he even have a snoot full?! 

Barney figured he'd have to ask once he got his drunk friend safe in the house. 

Most likely wouldn't do much good though, the only thing he gets out of Andy is a slurred explanation, a detailed conquering he had with a girl that previous evening, and a six-foot drunkard sleeping on his bedroom floor. 

He sighed tiredly and unlocked the front door, letting his grinning friend slip past him and wander up into his room. No more words were spoken between the two.

He fell asleep soundly that night with the sound of deep snoring and smell of cheap moonshine floating through the air.  


	3. Wallpaper

Looking in the mirror, Barney could just tell this evening was going to be an utter disaster. His coat was a size too big, his pants didn't match, and his old, time-worn converse were on the verge of crumbling into nothing.

Tonight was going to crumble into nothing, just like his damn shoes. Why? Well, folks, it was prom night for the lovely students of good ol' Mayberry High! Everyone was going and it was gonna be just swell!

_Swell my ass._ Barney grumbled in his head, adjusting his belt so that it would actually look good. He didn't even know why he was going, which well all know was a lie. 

Ding ding ding! Whoever guessed Andy was the answer, congratulations, you win nothing.

Barney cursed at himself while combing his hair. A few weeks ago, while sitting on top of Floyd's barber shop (illegal by the way) and smoking cigarettes, Andy had come up with the fantastic idea that they should bring dates to the prom, translation: I'll bring a date while you stand in the corner awkwardly and daydream about me. 

Tonight was going to be hell on earth, and Barney knew that for a fact, he could feel it in his bones. Hopefully, he couldn't get in without a date, so then he wouldn't be forced to watch Andy seduce his way into a girl panties while drinking dull, fruity punch that would be most likely spiked. That would be a blessing. 

"Well, don't you look handsome," the spawn of Satan said cheerfully, making Barney jump halfway to the moon. He turned to see Andy, standing propped against the doorway in a sleek, black suit made to kill. Barney felt his throat tighten and his heart flutter, that suit looked _really_ good on Ange.  

It hugged his slim figure nicely, showing his defined shoulders and waist. His hands were shoved deeply into his pockets, his sleeves slowly riding up his arms to hug his lean muscles. 

And his  _hair._ Granted, yes, his hair was beautiful even if he hadn't washed it in a couple of days and it either had broken pieces of a beer bottle or half of a pencil he forgot was there burrowed inside, but tonight it looked utterly magnificent. It wasn't a big ball of tangled mess for once, it was nicely combed and it seemed like he washed it. 

Still curly, still reaching out in all directions, but gorgeous anyhow. 

Barney gave a shaky smile and laughed. 

"Look who's talking, my goodness it's wonder why every girl in Mayberry isn't all over you."  _Abort, abort, that sounded stupid._  

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The gymnasium was just as lively as ever.

Silver and shiny blue streamers hung from the ceiling, the ceiling lights were dimmed down a comfortable haze, and white balloons littered the place. Barney felt his stomach twist.

His vision came true. Here he was, standing against the back wall, nasty ass punch in hand, eyes glued to Andy as he spun around Rachel Hoffman: a girl with big tits and golden, curly hair. She  _was_ a pretty girl, Barney had to admit there was some beauty to her. Big, blue eyes, beautifully tanned skin, a gorgeous smile. 

She unfortunately  _wasn't_ as breath-taking as Andy, which is why Barney was in a mindless haze from watching how Andy's shoulder blades moved underneath that black jacket. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A light shake on his shoulder caused him to come out of his dreamless sleep, spilling his punch all over his sleeve. 

"Damn Barney, calm the hell down buddy, it's just me that's a-shakin' ya!" Andy smiled, pulling his disoriented friend up from his chair in the corner. Barney had barely anytime to wake up and hear the slow, sappy music playing in the background. 

Too much punch maybe, that's what put his ass to sleep. 

"Wha-? Where we goin'?" He asked, letting himself be dragged by his taller friend. Andy grinned and shuffled them past dancing lovebirds and groups of laughing friends. 

"Somewhere else, I'm bored as hell."

"Where's Rachel?"

"Gone. She left with Joey over there. Good thing too, she's a whining bitch. I hope Joey has fun with her."

"Oh," Barney mumbled, feeling a warm feeling arise in his stomach at the thought of him and Andy having the evening to themselves, "Yeah, me too."


	4. D does not mean failing

 

The door swinging open and banging against the old concrete wall of his basement made Barney nearly scream.

He tried to calm his heart as Andy stomped down the stairs, even jumping down them one at a time. He was tearing out the pages to a math book and throwing them to the floor, some that landed on the steps were stomped on too.

He then hurled the book to the wall, his face red as he ran over to it and began to spit and jump on it. Barney watched in mere amusement and worried curiosity. Andy could fly off the handle pretty easily, but whatever made him so pissed at this simple math book was beyond Barney's understanding.

He sat there quietly, watching his friend throw a very violent tantrum. He finished it with a quick punch to the wall, Barney jumped, hoping the old concrete wouldn't splinter his bones.

Andy turned swiftly and stomped over to the old couch and stood swollen in from of Barney. His hair was a disoriented tangle of chaos, his white shirt had ridden up above his navel along with his leather jacket, which had ridden up to his waist. His cheeks were a lovely shade of red, and his ocean eyes burned with anger.

"Mrs. Kennedy is a no-good, lying bitch!" He spat before plopping on the couch, his head down in between his knees.

Barney immediately went into wife mode, carefully picking up Andy's hand and inspecting it closely. The knuckles were split open, blood freely pooled at the cuts. Tiny bits of concrete were bedded into the blistering hot skin, some so deep it would require his sister's tweezers to wrench them out.

Andy slipped his hand from Barney's grasp and rested his arms on his legs, his face coming down from it's earlier ruby red color. He sighed and looked over at his friend, the anger in his eyes gone.

"How's it goin' buddy?" He asked calmly.

"I'm doin' just fine how 'bout you? How are you holdin' up?" Barney crossed his arms over his thin chest and leaned back into the couch, the familiar smell of dust and cigarette smoke giving him a firm hug. Andy scoffed and leaned back with him, propping his feet up on the shitty coffee table they stole from Mr. Greer's porch when Barney was thirteen.

"I'm doin' just dandy, Barn. Just dandy," Andy gave a tight smile, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"That's fantastic, now do you mind tellin' me why you stomped into my basement and had a spell?"

"Because Mrs. Kennedy is a no-good, lying bitch, I'm pretty sure I already covered this."

"Why is she a no-good lying bitch?" Barney tiredly asked, and his friend sighed.

"She gave me a D on the multiplication sheets, and I actually did 'em this time! I turned 'em in after class like everyone else and she called me and shoved the papers in my face with a big fat D!" Andy explained, that anger pooling in his eyes again.

Barney grimaced, Andy and Mrs. Kennedy hadn't really seen eye to eye on some things.

Take that back: everything. They argued like it was nobodies business, often other kids in class would legit pay Ange a nickel just to start something so there'd be little to no class.

It _was_ funny at times when her face would get beet-red and she'd yell at him to get out of the classroom, then Andy would make the room erupt in giggles as he'd just sit there with a smug look on his face.

"Well did you do the equations right?" Barney asked patiently, and Andy nodded.

"Yeah! I copied off of Susie Gilberston, so it was bound to be right," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, making his shirt ride higher up his slim body. Barney's eyes flicked to the exposed skin for a mere second, and his mouth instantly went dry.

"That... that could be the problem, Ange. Maybe she saw ya copyin? I dunno, man, who knows?" He shrugged, hoping the blush creeping up the side of his neck wouldn't be noticeable.

"Well, that still don't give her the right to give a D," Andy muttered, a pout spread across his face. Barney sighed, he'd be angry if that pout wasn't so adorable. He shook his head and shifted in his seat. 

"Well hey," He spoke up, nudging Andys arm, "A D does not mean failing." 

Andy gave a scoff and rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you tell that to my dad? Once he hears my grade went down some more, pop!" Andy backhanded the air with his good hand, Barney paled and felt a sharp shiver run down his spine. 

"Well, I'll help you with math, and hopefully that grade'll rise. How does that sound?"

"Better than my ass getting smacked."

Barney smiled a tight smile and ran upstairs to get his books, his mind racing around how Mr. Taylor was gonna react to his sons lower grade. 

A D was not failing. He should know that by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw okie dokie fellas sorry if this sucked but i did it at school today and hhhhhhhh. leave a comment if you want.


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